


the sharpest lives

by sunshyun



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Blood, but oh well, distopya - vampires, hunter Minho, jisung was a hunter too, kinda angsty, mentions of death (obvs), sorry oops, vampire sung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27225154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshyun/pseuds/sunshyun
Summary: “I need to feed.”“Here? Now?” Minho asks, annoyance and incredulity plastered all over his face.“Yes. Unless you want me to go back inside the car with you and see how long I can go without sinking my teeth in your neck.”(or: Minho's supposed to be Jisung's replacement in the team and Jisung's supposed to be dead. Neither of these statements are technically true.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 33
Kudos: 249





	1. moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hello skz ficdom :') there's not enough vampire jisung in our lives so i took matters into my own hands. hope you like this! 
> 
> thank you [noiroses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noiroses/pseuds/noiroses) (go read her skz fic!!)

☾

Minho knows a lot about Jisung.  
  
He’s heard it all from Chan and Changbin, of course, stories diverging from their high school days, when they formed an extracurricular and in no way official music club after classes, to Jisung’s last year at college, right when their lives began to resemble the horror movies they used to watch during rainy days at chan’s basement.  
  
He knows it all because Chan and Changbin won’t shut up about him, and for Minho, during the last six months, two stories stand out the most between all their shared memories.  
  
One, the story of how Han Jisung won their high school talent show which he had only participated in to spite some other boys in his class. None of his classmates knew that Jisung could sing. They thought he could only rap. They had heard him, in the beginning, in the empty class he and Chan and Changbin used when classes were over, stumbling over fast beats first and learning how to navigate melodies with time and patience. They had heard him, years later, rapping under his breath by himself between lessons after Chan and Changbin had already graduated. They had heard him on soundcloud too, and they even had the nerve to repeat some of Jisung’s lyrics to his face to mock him.  
  
Jisung didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. He was good at rapping, he knew that. Chan and Changbin were tired of telling him exactly that. Minho’s listened to a couple of old songs -not because he wanted to, but because Changbin insisted- and the only thing he could do was silently agreed to it. Han Jisung was a good rapper. What the stupid boys in Jisung’s class didn’t know, is that Han Jisung was also a good singer.  
  
According to chan, who skipped a 9 am political science class to attend the talent show, the pretentious smiles in these boys’ faces fell as soon as Jisung hit the first high note of the song. Mrs. Park, the high school director, rose to her feet with a delightful expression and started applauding as soon as Jisung ended. Changbin always says he doesn’t believe that part, because according to him Mrs. Park was a cyborg incapable of feeling any kind of emotion.  
  
The prize was two tickets for a wonderland themed park, and between the three of them, they paid for a third one. Apparently, Jisung got on the ferris wheel with the two of them even though he wasn’t very fond of high places. Changbin said Jisung looked really happy at the top.  
  
The second story and the one Minho likes the best, is the story of how Han Jisung saved Jeongin’s life. This one is not a simple story about mean high school kids, it doesn’t have pop songs in it, no one wins anything and there’s certainly not a trip to wonderland at the end. If the story has a happy ending is because Han Jisung was brave and reckless. Had Minho known Jisung during that day, he would have found a way to compliment him for the first and to scold him for the latter.  
  
But he didn’t know that Han Jisung and, sadly, he never will.  
  
The creature in front of him looks like the boy he’s seen in pictures. It’s got big, round eyes, coloured a dark red instead of black, a high nose, large cheeks and pretty lips that, if Minho remembers from some of the photos he’s seen, used to turn into a heart every time Jisung smiled. It is a tragedy that now those same lips are just the sheath to some weapon.  
  
Jisung -and Minho only calls the creature like that because Chan and Changbin insisted on it- looks even paler under the white fluorescent of his room. He’s sprawled on his bed and he’s got headphones on. He’s holding Jeongin’s old phone in his hands, and the music he’s playing is loud enough for Minho to hear it from the door. Jisung doesn’t look his way, but Minho knows that Jisung’s aware of his presence. It’s always easy for a predator to track their prey.  
  
“We gotta move,” it’s all Minho says. He doesn’t raise his voice, he doesn’t need to.  
  
“Why?” comes Jisung question a heartbeat later. The music stops playing, but he keeps still, waiting for an answer that never comes. Only when it’s clear that Minho isn’t going to discuss his plans with him does Jisung look up, his red eyes landing on Minho’s black ones. “Where are Chan and Changbin?”  
  
“They’re still at the raid in the North District,” Minho answers this time, because that isn’t a secret. In fact, Jisung seems to understand everything as soon as Minho mentions the North District. He gets up, taking the headphones off and leaving them hanging over his neck. He opens the first drawer of his bedside table and grabs a small black bag. Then, he stares at Minho’s leg holster for a couple of seconds before meeting his eyes again.  
  
“Well?” Jisung asks, tilting his head. “Lead the way.”  
  
Minho speaks before he has time to think about what he’s going to say “Where are your other things?”  
  
He sees Jisung flinching at the question. Minho regrets his words as soon as he registers them. He just asked out of habit, because this life has taught them to always have at least a couple of bags ready to be carried, or a suitcase if they’re in the mood for something fancier. This time, Minho’s question is not only completely out of place but also just plain stupid, because they both know that one, Minho doesn’t care about Jisung enough to be worried about him bringing his favourite black shirt to their new place, and two, Jisung’s favourite black shirt was surely devoured by flames in the fire six months ago.  
  
Minho almost feels sad when Jisung speaks again and says, “I don’t really have anything else.”  
  
Almost.  
  
They don’t speak on their way out. Minho’s already taken everything they will need in the new place to the car. It doesn’t faze him to see the common room empty. The only thing that pains him is knowing that he has to leave the couch behind. It’s such a good couch. Royal blue, soft cushions, comfortable to sleep on, and the best part: it barely has any bloodstains. Minho’s going to miss it. Maybe he can convince Chan to let him go back for it at some point.  
  
A full moon patiently waits for them outside. It makes things easier. The whole street is bathed in silver lightning, leaving almost no room for danger. Still, Minho carries a gun in his hands. It’s something he’s learned. To never trust dark corners and the many secrets they can hold, to never underestimate the enemy’s hunger, and to never trust his own eyes for the reason that just because he can’t see anyone else, it doesn’t mean that he’s alone.  
  
They like to lurk in the shadows.   
  
Minho’s learned it all the bad way, which is why no matter how harmless the night might look like, he holds the gun firmly in his hands until they get to the car.  
  
Just in case.  
  
“Why aren’t you on the raid?”   
  
Minho tenses for a second at Jisung’s question. He looks up, across the vehicle, and locks eyes with the creature once again. Jisung’s eyes are too big, too innocent, and definitely too red.  
  
“Get in,” Minho breaks the eye contact, ignoring the shiver that goes up his spine. He opens the door and gets inside the car, fastening his seat belt and adjusting the rear-view mirror. He glances at Jisung once the other boy mutters that he’s “all set” from the passenger seat.  
  
Minho doesn’t say anything when he notices that Jisung hasn’t fastened his seat belt. It’s not like he needs it.   
  
Jisung’s already dead.

  
☾

  
  
In the beginning, silence accompanies the two of them. Minho’s glad that Jisung’s smart enough to read the room and remain quiet, although after a while he starts shifting in his seat, like he’s uncomfortable, every few minutes. He never says anything, so, neither does Minho. The city sleeps as they drive through it, with Minho taking the longest routes to avoid certain places, speeding instead of stopping when he sees a red light. The South District is far from being a safe place, but at least it has remained under human control for the past three years and that’s why, sometimes, it still looks like the city Minho knew.  
  
Inside the car, with the street lights dancing over the metal and crystal, it's very easy to pretend. Pretend that it’s just a Friday night and he’s driving home after a night out with his friends from the dance crew. Pretend his legs hurt from all the dancing. Pretend that Jisung is just some cute boy he met at the club that’s going to ride Minho into the mattress when they get to his apartment. Pretend that everything’s normal, that it never changed in the first place, and that he’s just a young soul looking for an adventure in a sleepless city.  
  
It’s very easy to pretend until it’s not, and it’s only when they’ve crossed the bridge, leaving the most crowded part of the district behind, that Jisung speaks again. And with his voice, the dream shatters.  
  
“Fuck, stop the car.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Minho raises an eyebrow at the uneasiness in Jisung’s voice.   
  
“This is why you didn’t go to the raid, right?” Jisung throws the question with disdain, voice sounding nothing like Minho's ever heard him before. He shifts on his seat, pressing his back against the door so he's facing Minho now but staying as far away from him as it's physically possible. Minho tenses up when he sees Jisung taking a deep breath before he speaks again, “it's your leg. You’re injured, and you’re bleeding. Fuck, stop the car.”  
  
Minho's blood goes cold.  
  
It's true. A bullet did a bit more than grazing his right thigh last week. It's fine now, but it hasn't healed yet, not entirely, and Minho’s leg still hurts a little when he puts too much pressure on it. That's why Changbin assisted Chan at the raid today, and why Minho stayed back playing nanny with a vampire.  
  
Jisung wasn't supposed to know any of that. Sure, Chan or Changbin could have mentioned the accident to him, however, Minho suspects there’s an entirely different reason as to why Jisung is acting like that.  
  
He’s not going to like it, but needs to ask, and more importantly, he wants to hear it.  
  
“How do you-”  
  
“Cause I can smell your fucking blood, shit,” Jisung half yells, not letting him finish and saying exactly what Minho feared he would hear. “Please,” Jisung’s voice sounds broken, and his next words are both a threat and a plead, "stop the fucking car."  
  
Minho pulls over immediately.   
  
Jisung gets out of the car as soon as it stops, and he goes straight to the back, to the trunk, opening it easily with his bare hands even though it had been locked.  
  
“Shit. Where is it?” he hears Jisung saying, “Come on, where the fuck is it?”  
  
At first, Minho just observes him from the rare view mirror as he tries to get a hold of the situation. It's not every day that he finds himself at the curb of some road, just outside the eastern suburbs, at two a.M, with a vampire he can't hurt, much less kill -Chan made him promise. It's even less ideal that said vampire freaked out a moment ago because he was able to smell Minho's blood under layers and layers of clothing and bandages, although that seems like a good place to start, Minho supposes.   
  
He glances at Jisung one last time -making sure that the vampire's still busy out there looking for god knows what- and then he holds himself up on his seat with one hand, pulling his pants down to his knees very carefully with the other, just enough to check that indeed, the wound opened without him noticing, and it's bleeding a bit.  
  
"Fuck," he hisses.  
  
Silently, Minho praises himself for being the kind of person that makes sure to always be prepared for any kind of situation. There are clean bandages in his glove compartment, and it takes him just a couple of minutes to clean the bruised skin and patch himself up. Once he's done he pulls his pants up, grabs his gun -out of habit- and gets out of the car.  
  
He’s met with the type of cold and silence that can only be found at two A.M.   
  
Minho doesn't mind. Born in fall, he's always preferred winter over summer. He’s also had to sleep on the streets time and again during the past three years, sometimes with a coat to shelter him from the ruthless weather, and sometimes without it. The cold doesn't bother Minho, and it certainly doesn’t bother Han Jisung either, but for entirely different reasons. There's a beautiful sky, dark, full of stars and secrets right above Minho yet his eyes remain downward, focused on the way the wind blows Jisung's hair out of his face. He's crouched on the ground in front of two of Changbin's bags, taking all the content out.  
  
"What are you looking for?"   
  
"This is Changbin's bag, right?” comes Jisung's answer, right before he spares a glance at him. Minho sees how Jisung’s eyes land on the gun in his hands for a second. If it bothers him, he doesn’t say. “It should be here."  
  
Minho should intervene. He should say something, tell him to stop, or get mad for the mess that Jisung's making, but he can’t find the words because he keeps getting distracted by the breeze gently caressing Jisung's long hair, and the way his eyes don't look entirely red under the tail lamps. Maybe it’s the bad lighting or the lack of sleep, but Minho momentarily decides that Han Jisung doesn’t look bad even though he’s dead and that he doesn’t mind looking at him instead of gazing at the stars.  
  
He ends up clearing his throat and asking, “What should be there?”  
  
“The blood. What else?”  
  
“What the fuck,” Minho lets out. He’s the one who carried everything to the car as soon as Chan told him to evacuate, but Minho had no idea of its contents.  
  
“I need to feed.”  
  
“Here? Now?” Minho asks, annoyance and incredulity plastered all over his face.   
  
“Yes. Unless you want me to go back inside the car with you and see how long I can go without sinking my teeth in your neck.”  
  
Minho takes a sharp intake of breath. Jisung’s words should sound intimidating and, if he thinks about it, threatening to some extent. But they don’t. They sound pitiful, even revolting to the vampire himself, and it throws Minho off.  
  
“Trying,” Minho says, feeling the absurd need to correct Jisung in his description of the future possible situation, “without trying to sink your teeth in my neck.”  
  
“You think I’m bluffing?” Jisung scoffs. Minho notices that his hands have stopped rummaging through Chanbing’s bag and that he’s now holding a black small case.  
  
“No, but I think I can easily stop you,” Minho replies, his grip on his gun becoming a bit tighter, “like I’ve stopped so many of you from doing so before.”  
  
Jisung lets out a sigh -which he clearly does on purpose since he doesn’t need to breathe- and then he has the nerve to laugh.   
  
“So many of you, uh?” he repeats Minho’s words.  
  
Jisung gets up and takes some steps back, putting some ground between Minho and him. He’s still smiling, and for a moment he looks exactly like in the photos Minho’s seen, a young boy, cheerful and carefree. That’s it until Jisung opens the case, prompted by Minho’s silence, and extracts one small vial filled with a dark liquid. There are a couple more inside, all filled the same with white labels stuck to the sides, and although Minho can’t read what’s written on them, it’s not like he needs to. Jisung’s told him exactly what it is.  
  
It makes him feel uneasy.  
  
“Lee Minho,” Jisung makes a pause, like he’s tasting the flavor of Minho’s name in his mouth, “you’re making this really difficult.”  
  
Minho blinks, dumbfounded at Jisung’s new attitude. Now that he’s stepped out of the tail lights his eyes glow unmistakably red, and Minho notices how his hands are trembling a bit.  
  
“Making what difficult, exactly?”  
  
“Uh, so hot and dumb. The real package.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Don't give me that look. It’s your fault," Jisung starts, and for the first time tonight Minho notices his fangs, poking shyly under his upper lip. He brings the vial up on his hand and places it in front of his mouth, so there's no way to miss it.   
  
Minho feels his heart starting to beat faster.  
  
“How is it my fault?” Minho asks. He sees Jisung looking up at the sky murmuring something, words that Minho isn't able to catch. "You mean the wound?" he presses.  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"Bullshit. I saw you treating Jeongin’s cut the other day, and you weren’t acting like this.”  
  
Jisung’s eyes widen.  
  
"That's– it's different."  
  
"How is it different?"  
  
Jisung isn't looking at him but Minho is, and he can see him rolling his eyes back. The vampire keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other, focusing on everything, anything -the pebbles on the ground, the back of the car, Changbin's clothes scattered over the damp grass, the vial full of blood on his hands- but Minho.  
  
“Han Jisung,” Minho insists.   
  
The whole situation doesn't make sense, and Minho's patience is running out. He’s about to ask for an explanation when Jisung interrupts him and everything kinda falls into place.  
  
“Your scent is different, okay?”   
  
"What?"  
  
“I don't know why, but the smell is different. Believe me,” Jisung goes on, rambling now, “I really have no clue. The one thing I know is that so far, it’s only you, and-”   
  
“What do you mean it’s only me?” Minho interrupts him, feeling a bit lightheaded all of a sudden thanks to Jisung’s confession.  
  
“I mean exactly that. I have no problem with chan’s and Jeongin’s blood. It doesn’t even happen with Changbin’s. It’s all you, Minho. I’m sorry, but you make me feel...” a pause. You make me feel hungry. That’s how the sentence ends, Minho supposes, but he sees Jisung struggling with his words, not wanting to say them, to admit something so crude.   
  
Maybe Han Jisung still hasn’t accepted his new nature as well as Minho thought he had.   
  
Suddenly, the gun feels heavy on his hands, and inside his head Minho repeats Jisung's words, over and over, trying to understand them, understand how they affect the whole operation, where do they leave them, and what they really mean. It's not every day that a vampire tells someone that their blood smells good without trying to rip their neck with their mouths seconds later, but Jisung did. Jisung admitted that Minho made him hungry only after he made sure that he could find relief somewhere else, ensuring Minho’s wellbeing.   
  
“Minho?” Jisung calls him, still looking straight at him with his big, round eyes.  
  
There's no denying for Minho that it is a vampire standing in front of him. It’s in the red eyes, in the sharp fangs, in the latent bloodlust that shows itself in the faint trembling of Jisung's hands. There's no other way around it and yet, it feels different.  
  
There is something almost human about Han Jisung.  
  
Minho takes a deep breath. He puts the gun back in his leg holster, and, for the first time tonight, he allows himself to relax.  
  
“Is it gonna take you long?”  
  
“What?” Jisung tilts his head, clearly confused.  
  
“That,” Minho signals to the blood vials and Jisung’s hands. “and calming down enough to go back inside the car with me. How long?”  
  
“Oh. Not long, I swear.”  
  
“Five minutes, ten? More?”  
  
“Ten is good, yeah. I can do ten minutes.”  
  
Minho hums.  
  
“I’ll wait in the car,” he says as he takes some steps back. “And clean this mess,” he adds when he passes by Changbin’s belongings scattered through the ground. Minho feels a smile tugging at his lips when he thinks about Changbin finding dirt across his shirts and boxers.  
  
“Sure, I mean, I wasn’t planning on leaving it like that,” Jisung laughs, “Changbin would kill me.”  
  
Both of them know Changbin would only pout.  
  
Once he gets inside the car, Minho kills the engine. It leaves only the distant golden glow from a streetlight back in the road to shed some light on them, but Jisung doesn’t really need light to see and for Minho the yellow hues are enough. He catches his reflection in the rare view mirror, half of his face almost in complete darkness, the other half faintly illuminated, and silently ponders about what just happened.  
  
Minho will have to mention it to Chan and Changbin, he thinks, once they reunite, and he should explain the whole situation, although there’s already one thing he plans on keeping to himself.  
  
What Minho felt, earlier, when they were still at the basement and he asked Jisung about his belongings and the vampire said that he didn't have anything, he recognizes the feeling as the same emotion that ran through him when they were driving across the city and the light of the neon signs made possible for Minho to pretend for a moment that they were in the car for very different reasons.  
  
No one needs to know about it, maybe not even himself.  
  
When Jisung comes back to the car exactly ten minutes later Minho has managed to push the thought all the way to the back of his mind, and when they reach the main road again and the light falls directly on them, Minho quickly steals a glance to his right and purposely ignores the rosy cheeks he’s met with.   
  
Jisung keeps looking outside the window, making Minho wonder if he’s daydreaming about an alternate reality too. The rest of the ride is quiet, almost comfortable, except for the question brewing inside Minho’s head, a question that’s been waiting to be asked since Jisung made him stop the car. He waits until they’ve reached the entrance to the suburbs though, just in case the answer shatters their newly-found and fleeting peace.  
  
“Would you have attacked me,” Minho finally asks when they spot chan’s bike parked by the end of the road, “if Changbin didn't have blood stashed in his bag?"  
  
The vampire shifts uncomfortably on his seat. Minho’s question is quite unpleasant, but so is everything that awaits them once they get off the car. When Minho kills the engine and looks at Jisung he finds his red eyes already on him.   
  
He can’t read what’s in them.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe," Jisung answers, rough honesty in his words. Then, his eyes seem to grow darker, but he doesn’t look away when he returns the question, "Would you have shot me if I did?"  
  
The question isn’t unexpected. The answer that takes form in Minho’s mind is. Certainly, a couple of hours ago Minho would have said “yes, definitely”, however, that’s not how he feels right now. Minho used to think he knew a lot about the boy in front of him, but perhaps he doesn’t. The Han Jisung in Changbin’s stories doesn’t seem to be dead after all, and he’s given Minho honesty, so he might as well do the same.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe."  
  
Jisung laughs under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh this feels like it could use some extra 10k, right? i'll see what i can do.
> 
> thank you for reading it! yall can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mnsungs) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckly) and i'll really appreciate it if you leave kudos and some comments! thank you again ~ ( ˘ ³˘)♡


	2. yellow light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho doesn't answer. He doesn't take another step either. Part of him doesn't want to have anything to do with the creature behind the grey old walls, but another part of him hasn't been able to stop thinking about the way the wind caressed Jisung's hair the other night and how fascinating he looked under the stars. Minho's not particularly fond of finding himself in that type of crossroad.
> 
> When the bathroom door opens he hasn't decided yet which way he'd like to go.

☾

“Why now?”

“What do you mean why now?”

Minho knows he can't fool Changbin with deceiving questions. Maybe he could trick Jeongin, or Chan if he tries his hardest. It's easy for people to be blinded by muscles and think that physical strength is all that person can offer, which is true in some cases, but it doesn't apply to Seo Changbin at all. Still, Minho appreciates the challenge and Changbin, for some reason, finds it entertaining enough to answer.

“Up until a week ago you didn’t even look at him," Changbin says, shaking up his head a little bit, trying to conceal a smile. "And when you did you always had this weird look on your face. Jisung would come into the room and you would get up and leave. That’s how it’s been since you joined us.”

“So?”

Minho tilts his head and blinks several times, pretending that he doesn't understand Changbin's connotations. 

Changbin just sneers at him and puts the weights he had just been using down. Minho doesn't say anything while Changbin gets up from his bed and grabs the bottle of water that had been resting on his nightstand. He brings the bottle to his lips but he doesn't drink. 

Instead, Changbin asks, “so why are you making questions about Jisung now?”

See, all the information Minho has on Jisung, all the stories from their high school days to the battlefield, Minho never asked. Chan and Changbin shared them willingly, perhaps in an attempt of keeping Jisung alive through their memories in a time when they didn't know if their friend's heart was still beating.

Minho listened to them as the only comfort he could offer, because truth be told he didn't care that much. Their friend was probably dead and it was most likely that they wouldn't see him again. Of course, Minho never said that out loud.

In the end, he was right about one thing. Han Jisung was dead, and Minho had no interest in getting to know a ghost.

However, there's a story that Minho hasn't heard yet, a story that neither Chan nor Changbin has even tried to tell.

“Just because," Minho waits until Changbin finishes drinking. “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“What exactly?”

“That he showed up one night after being missing for six months.”

“Why would it be weird? We’re his family. Of course he would come back with us.”

"He came back dead, Changbin."

"Oh, yeah?" Changbin says, voice full of sarcasm. "I didn't notice."

Minho quickly understands that Changbin is not going to grant him the answer that he wants, so Minho does the most logical thing. 

He changes the question.

"What happened during the fire?" Minho asks, his voice dripping nonchalance even though he's aware of the danger that surrounds the mention of the flames. "It was the same night Jisung disappeared, right?"

Changbin flinches at that. It's subtle, and maybe Minho wouldn't have noticed it if he wasn't observing his teammate so carefully. Changbin body tenses for a swift second and then he shrugs, putting the bottle of water down as if nothing happened.

"You can check the reports on that night if you are that interested," Changbin opens one of his drawers and grabs a blue towel and a small black bag. Minho can tell that Changbin's trying to act normal, as if they were talking about the weather or what's for dinner, and even though Minho's never done small talk with Changbin he can sense that there's something off, a pent-up tension underneath a thin fake layer of indifference. "There's no need to be asking me these questions."

Minho knows that if only he could find the right thing to say, it could all be revealed so easily.

"Maybe I don't trust the report," he says.

Changbin narrows his eyes. "I wrote it."

"That's exactly why."

Changbin's grip around the towel becomes tighter as he takes a step back, and for a moment Minho believes that he's said the right thing and that he's managed to back Changbin up against a corner that he can only escape by telling Minho what he wants to hear.

That's it until Changbin tilts his head back with his eyes close and his mouth twisted in a smug grin.

"Oh, I see," Changbin silently laughs, his shoulders shaking. Then, he takes a deep breath, and it feels like time slows down for a couple of seconds until he opens his eyes and looks back at Minho, licking his lips before speaking again, his words a weapon. "What does Chan have on you?"

_Shit._

"What?"

"At first I thought that Chan trusted you enough not to alert HQ about Jisung because you guys trained together, but now I'm sure there must be another reason why you haven't ratted us out."

Minho swallows down. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"This is a conversation you should be having with HQ, not me. If you're concerned about any of us withdrawing information you know there are procedures to make sure that everything is alright."

Changbin is right. Minho clenches his jaw, Changbin is right about everything, and he hates the fact that he's exposed himself like this, his only relief being the confirmation that Chan kept his promise and his mouth shut. 

No one can know about it. Chan knowing is painful and embarrassing enough, but Minho can live with it, even though it means he couldn't alert HQ about the vampire that lives with them even if he wanted to. If Minho talks then Chan talks, and Minho's been trying.

He's been trying so hard.

"I don't care if you hide information from fucking HQ," Minho ends up saying, because is the truth. There are things he's hidden from HQ as well, stupid and dangerous things, Chan had said.

"So what is this about then?" Changbin raises one eyebrow, and even though he's now the one that has Minho trapped against a corner, he quickly abandons every intent of confrontation that has been building up. He throws the towel over his shoulder and doesn't even look at Minho as he walks out of his room. "I'm going to take a shower. Be more careful with your words next time."

Minho's tongue hurts where he's been biting at it.

☾

As soon as his leg is completely healed Minho goes back on patrol.

It's an easy routine to fall back into, and so far Chan keeps letting him do it all on his own even though it'd be far more secure to do it along with someone else. Still, patrolling doesn't really equal hunting, and most nights the only thing that Minho has to deal with are stupid teenagers that think that _there’s no way it's going to happen to them_ , and so they venture into the darkest corners of the neighbourhood with the unnerving and foolish bravery that comes up with being fifteen.

After his rounds, he goes back to the safe house to answer any possible emergency call from HQ and to do some training. Jeongin joins him when he can't sleep, Changbin joins him if he's had to patrol on the same night and Chan well, Chan is usually busy. Minho goes to sleep when the sun rises, and yes, he's very much aware of the irony of it.

It also means that Minho's usually awake when Han Jisung is. Turns out even though vampires don't burst into flames under the sunlight -like Minho wishes they did- it still affects them, making them feel exhausted and clouding his senses. Changbin used the word "sleepy" once to refer to Jisung's new permanent state when the sun is up.

"It's not that different from before," Changbin joked that day. "Most days Jisung didn't leave his bed before two or three P.M." 

Chan and Jeongin laughed. Jisung only pouted, as he clearly wasn't able to refute Changbin's words. Minho didn't say anything.

It's a full moon night when Minho comes back to the safe house and finds that everyone else seems to be asleep for once. It doesn’t even look like Chan is awake either since there's no light coming from under the closed door of his office and the kitchen also remains in the dark. There is, however, light coming from under the bathroom's threshold, and when Minho walks past by to go to his room he hears what he assumes is some sort of object falling to the floor and someone cursing because of it.

Minho recognises the voice in a heartbeat. It'd be hard not to, given that Minho's been replaying the conversation they had in his car a week ago all the time in his mind.

"Hello?" comes Jisung's voice from inside the bathroom. He's painfully aware that Jisung probably heard him since he walked into the house and that the vampire also knows who he's trying to talk to. Before Minho can walk away and pretend that he didn't hear anything Jisung speaks again. "I could use a little help, you know."

Minho doesn't answer. He doesn't take another step either. Part of him doesn't want to have anything to do with the creature behind the grey old walls, but another part of him hasn't been able to stop thinking about the way the wind caressed Jisung's hair the other night and how fascinating he looked under the stars. Minho's not particularly fond of finding himself in that type of crossroad.

When the bathroom door opens Minho hasn't decided yet which way he'd like to go.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" Jisung asks.

The yellow light of the bathroom lightbulb illuminates half of Jisung's face, as well as half of his bare chest. It's the first thing that Minho notices, that Jisung isn't wearing a shirt. The second is the blue paste all over his hair.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm bleaching my hair."

Minho narrows his eyes.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Jisung crosses his arms as he leans against the doorframe. 

Minho's breath gets caught in his throat.

Turns out Han Jisung was hiding some muscles under all the oversized hoodies that Minho's seen him wear. His arms are defined, not as much as chan's or Changbin's, but they aren't quite the noodle arms that Minho had been expecting either and the revelation makes him feel weird. His eyes keep wandering over Jisung's body almost unwittingly, from his arms to his collarbones all the way down to his stomach where the yellow light does wonders highlighting Jisung's abs.

Han Jisung has abs.

Minho needs to get out of there as quickly as possible. A hot vampire is not in the list of threats he thought he could face tonight.

"Well," Minho starts, taking a step back and feeling his sanity coming back with each centimetre that he puts between him and the shirtless vampire. "Have fun," he says as he turns around.

His bedroom is merely two meters away. He only needs to take five more steps and he can spend the next two hours hitting his punching bag and pretending that this exchange never happened. Five more steps and Minho will be safe –from Jisung maybe, but not entirely, because he can't exactly run away from his own thoughts.

He's only taken a couple of steps when Jisung stops him again.

"Wait, Minho I–" Jisung calls him, and Minho hates that he actually stops walking and turns around to look at the other boy. It's only then that Minho realises that Jisung's been holding a small mirror in his hands the whole time. "I wasn't joking when I said that I could use a hand. Help me, please?"

Jisung hands him the mirror. It's round, and it has a tiny crack in one of its sides. It's also covered with some of the blue paste that Jisung has on his hair and hands. It's probably really sticky.

Minho hesitates.

"Come on, it doesn't bite," Jisung grins, feeling too proud of his own joke.

It's stupid and Minho shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he doesn't laugh. One victory is more than enough for Han Jisung tonight.

"Fine."

Jisung's eyes go wide. The light finally reaches them, turning dark brown into a deep red.

"Wait, for real?"

"Keep asking and I'll change my mind. What do you need?"

Minho takes the mirror from Jisung's hands and follows him into the bathroom, crinkling his nose at the weird strong smell of bleach. Over the sink, there is a bowl that Minho recognises as the one Changbin uses for his salads now full with a blue paste and a brush hanging out over one of its sides.

"Could you hold it so I can see the back of my head?" Jisung asks. He takes a seat on a small stool right in front of the sink mirror and waits until Minho places the looking glass in the spot that he needs. "Yeah, exactly like that. Perfect, thank you."

"Where did you get all of this?" Minho asks just so he doesn't have time to dwell on how easily he gave into Jisung's request. He will have enough time to torture himself about it later.

"I asked Jeongin to buy it," Jisung explains as he applies more bleach to his hair, checking the back of his head on the mirror that Minho's holding. "I can't exactly walk into a hair salon and ask for a makeover, can I?" 

No, he can't. 

Both of them know the answer, so Minho doesn't reply. He just stays put and places the mirror in different ways when Jisung asks him to as the vampire covers up the remaining black strands of hair with bleach. He's also trying really hard not to stare at the muscles of Jisung's back, and what's even more important, he's trying to control his breathing so that his heart rate doesn't go up and exposes the fact that Minho can appreciate a body like that. The last thing he wants to do is to embarrass himself. 

It would seem that Jisung has other plans.

"How's your leg?" Jisung asks out of nowhere. 

Minho blinks, surprised. He wasn't expecting Jisung to bring that up, not after he confessed that he had an affinity for Minho's blood that night because of it.

"It's fine."

Jisung nods.

"And the round? Any movement?"

"No."

"Isn't that weird?"

Minho shrugs. He wouldn't call it weird, he would call it dangerous. There are certainly vampires living among them –Minho himself has one standing in front of him right now– and just because there are no dead bodies piling up on the streets doesn't mean that there's nothing going on behind walls. That's how they work, always in the dark, Minho knows it well.

"It's quiet these days," it's all he ends up saying.

Jisung hums. He puts the brush down.

"That's good."

He gets up and takes a look at himself at the mirror sink. Minho's eyes follow him, and he notices how some strands of his hair are already a light shade of brown. 

"Well, all done," Jisung smiles. His lips curl into a heart shape and Minho stares at it through the mirror. He doesn't miss the fangs, poking slightly at Jisung's lower lip.

"Is that it?" Minho clears his throat and puts the mirror down on the sink. He uses the opportunity to turn on the tap and wash away the dried bleach and sweat from his hands.

"I have to wait forty minutes or so now. Why? Do you want to keep me company?"

Minho narrows his eyes at Jisung's suggestion.

"Not really."

Jisung turns to look at him and, in any other situation, it would have been absurd. Jisung's head is covered with bleach and he's just wearing joggers without a shirt. Minho would have probably laughed or at least smirked by now if it weren't for Jisung's expression. The tone of the vampire's voice is calm when he speaks but there's a deeper layer to it, a certain bitterness that goes along a pair of piercing red eyes.

"Are you sure? You could use this moment to talk to me, you know, instead of bothering Changbin with questions like you did the other day."

Minho presses his lips together knowing that there's no way of whatever this is.

"You heard us."

"I hear everything."

It shouldn't come up as a surprise. In fact, Minho first thought about it just a week after Jisung's miraculous return. That night he found himself with his own hand down his pants, chasing some relief, when it occurred to him that someone might be hearing him. Minho's not particularly loud, and he's especially quiet when he knows he's sharing a space with more people, but there are always certain sounds that escape his lips even if he doesn't want them to. Minho makes sure to not disturb whoever's next door, but he can't do anything against enhanced hearing.

"Everything?" Minho tilts his head. If he's good at one thing that is keeping his composure, and right now he's only asking that question to get back at Jisung.

Minho didn't care then and he doesn't care now, but there's a difference between what he doesn't care if Jisung hears and what he doesn't want Jisung to hear. His conversation with Changbin lands on the second category.

"What are you-"

"I'm just saying" Minho interrupts him, "I'm sure you've heard things that are far more interesting."

The implication is enough to make Jisung open his eyes wide and look away. Who knows, Minho thinks, maybe if he still could Jisung would be blushing right now. After all, Minho isn't only referring to his own actions. He's heard Changbin's bedroom room open in the middle of the night more times than he can remember, and can only assume Changbin's going to see chan.

It isn't Minho's business, so he stays out of it. At least he, unlike Jisung, doesn't have to listen to what they do.

Jisung shakes his head and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"You're always making things difficult," he tells Minho, similar words to the ones that Jisung said to him in the middle of nowhere under a starry sky, "all I wanted to tell you is that I'm not mad. I get it, trust me, I know how odd it all seems like. But as I said, you can ask me directly."

Minho rolls his eyes. He's getting tired of this act that Jisung puts on -the feigned innocence in his red eyes, the shy smiles when they walk past by each other in the hallway- as if he wouldn't suck Minho dry if he had the chance.

"And I'm supposed to believe that you will tell me the truth?"

"Yeah, although something tells me you won't believe me even if I do."

"Probably."

The vampire sighs again as he pinches his nose, eyes still pinned to the ground. Minho follows his gaze and that's when he sees it. A perfect circle over the white tiles on the floor, dark brown, almost black in the yellow light. He doesn't need to inspect it to know that it's a drop of blood. Unconsciously, Minho takes a step back and grabs the bathroom's door handle.

"I have no reason to lie to you. I thought we established that the other night."

"Establish what?"

Jisung finally looks at him.

"That I'm not your enemy, Minho."

Minho feels the urge to laugh. He also feels like, in all madness and fairness, Jisung might be right, he's not his enemy. He may be something worse than that. Something he's not ready to face now, not yet, not again.

"Well, you look the part," Minho retorts as he opens the door and steps into the hallway, the shadows of the corridor hiding his flushed ears and his shaking hands. He's determined, nothing is going to come between him and the five steps that separate him from his room, from his closest thing to a safe place right now. "Good night, Jisung," he says, and then he turns around. This time the vampire doesn't try to stop him and Minho lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Just when he thinks everything is over Jisung speaks one more time. The vampire's voice is not particularly loud, but it’s also far from being a whisper. Jisung could've been talking to himself, or maybe he did intend for Minho to listen. Either way, his words are the only thing that Minho thinks about for the rest of the night, and the day that comes after.

"It's funny because judging by your heartbeats I wouldn't say my looks are exactly a _problem_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wouldn't say his looks are a problem either.
> 
> hello! hope you all liked it :) a couple of things:
> 
> \- the reason why this was updated as 2/2 and not 2/? is because this story doesn't have a defined plot (as in the common 3 act setup-confrontation-resolution. of course there are backstories to be revealed and questions that need answers), but the whole thing is rather a universe for me to come back and write about it when i feel like it! and yes, i'm planning a third part right now~
> 
> \- i'm also currently working on a skz social media au with a friend, it has 12 chapters so far and i promise you is really funny, you can check it out [here](https://twitter.com/skzcleaus) :D
> 
> last but not least, thank you for reading it! i'll really appreciate it if you leave kudos and some comments!  
> thank you again ~ ( ˘ ³˘)♡
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mnsungs) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckly)


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